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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414454">The Stars Dim At Night (when I can't protect you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609'>Scotty1609</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Aunt Stephanie Brown, Batbrothers (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Drugs, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Tim Drake, Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Tim Drake, Single Parent Dick Grayson, Uncle Conner Kent, Uncle Jason and Uncle Dami gonna kick some ass, Uncle Kon, Uncle Tim Drake, Uncle-Niece Relationship, actually edited, but i probably missed stuff, not before Grandpa Bruce gets there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:49:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Un…Unc… Tim?” the girl slurred, and Tim startled at the thought that she might be drunk. “Wha… Where…?”<br/>“Tim?” Kon’s voice came from the doorway. “Is that Mar’i?”<br/>“Yeah,” Tim grit out. “And I’m pretty sure she’s intoxicated.”<br/>Mar’i groaned, swaying under her uncle’s grip. “Noooooo, Unca’ Tim…” she slurred, making Tim grow even more frustrated. “Not… not drunk…”<br/>Kon approached, kneeling down in front of Mar’i and taking in the sight of her. “Tim,” he stammered, “Tim, she’s not drunk, she… I think she’s been drugged.”</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>A teenaged Mar'i Grayson stumbles into her uncles' apartment after getting roofied at a party. Tim isn't really sure how to handle the situation, but Kon and Stephanie are there to help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Conner Kent &amp; Stephanie Brown &amp; Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown &amp; Tim Drake, Tim Drake &amp; Mar'i Grayson, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>221</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Stars Dim At Night (when I can't protect you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, um, WOW. What is this- like- my fourth fic this week?? With MORE angst???<br/>obvs i just need therapy, but fanfiction is cheaper.</p>
<p>WARNINGS: attempted rape/non-con of a minor, non-consensual drug usage, use of date-rape drugs, minor blood (very minor)</p>
<p>Also: the title is like a P!ATD song, it's too long and has nothing to do with its contents.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2It was one of those rare, quiet night in Gotham. Tim, upon finding little to no crime during patrol, had gotten on his communicator and told the others he was turning in early. He rolled his eyes at the ‘old man’ jokes, because <em>really</em>? He had only <em>just</em> turned thirty. Compared to Tim, it was <em>Dick</em> who was old- hell, Bruce was <em>ancient</em>.</p>
<p>It was around 2am by the time Tim got home, kissed his sleeping husband (smiling when Kon mumbled something and rolled over in bed, snoring up a storm), and got through showering. He groaned, stretching sore muscles and joints- again, <em>not</em> old, no matter <em>what </em>the others said- and went about making himself a cup of hot tea. It was a habit of Jason’s that had rubbed off on him, having chamomile or lavender tea before bed. It sure as hell helped Tim sleep better than his go-to mug of coffee.</p>
<p>Even with the tea, though, Tim knew it would take him about another hour to get tired enough to where he could crawl into bed under the covers and cuddle up next to his space-heater of a husband. So, tea in hand and laptop under his arm, he settled on the couch and started reviewing the statistics for W.E. that Damian had emailed him nearly a week ago. (So Tim had gotten <em>busy</em>- the meeting wasn’t for another three days; he had time to catch up.)</p>
<p>About a half hour into his work, his eyelids just barely starting to get heavy, Tim heard a thud come from the back window. He tensed for a moment, listening as the glass pane was slid open and a body stumbled clumsily over the sill. Then, he heard the low, familiar curses, mixed in with a couple of harsh <em>X’hal’</em>s, and he smiled softly to himself.</p>
<p>It had become commonplace over the past four or so years for his oldest niece to ‘sneak’ into his penthouse apartment. Ever since Mar’i was old enough to go on patrol- and really, Dick had pushed it off for as long as possible, which Mar’i had argued against vehemently. (“<em>You </em>got to go on patrol when you were <em>nine</em>!” the eleven-year-old had argued, and Dick argued right back, “Yes, because my father was an inexperienced, 22-year-old <em>child</em> who dressed as a <em>bat</em>!” Bruce had, wisely, steered clear of the conversation.) But eventually, after training under Damian, Dick, Tim, Cass, Bruce- and Dick had even called in the Titans and the League to loan metas to help Mar’i with her powers- Dick finally let his twelve-year-old spread her wings and <em>fly</em>.</p>
<p>And thus, Nightstar was born. Whenever Mar’i had a particularly difficult patrol, or had an argument with her father, or wanted to raid their pantry… Really, for any reason the girl could come up with, Mar’i would find her way to Tim’s and Kon’s apartment to stay the night for snuggles.</p>
<p>Even now, at sixteen years old, it seemed like the girl wasn’t growing out of the habit anytime soon. Not that Tim <em>minded</em> of course, he was just confused as to why Mar’i chose <em>him</em> out of all of her uncles to continually visit. Damian had been her favorite when she was a toddler, and her adolescent years had been full of angst at her absent mother that drew her in close with Jason. But no- it was <em>Tim </em>that she chose to run off to nowadays.</p>
<p>The thought made him feel a not-so-little-bit smug.</p>
<p>Shaking his head gently to clear his thoughts, Tim paused and frowned. It had been about two minutes since Mar’i had entered the apartment, which was plenty of time for her to raid the fridge for soda and then come find him on the couch.</p>
<p>Cocking his head to the side, Tim listened intently.</p>
<p>Accompanying Mari’s curses was shuffling and heavy breathing, which was a little concerning... Suddenly, a particularly loud crash had Tim standing up, and the pained gasp that accompanied it had him running towards the noise. As he rushed past the bedroom, he heard Kon’s sleepy call of, “Tim? Wha’s goin’ on?”</p>
<p>And Tim didn’t <em>mean </em>to ignore his husband- he just had bigger concerns on his mind.</p>
<p>When he entered the back living space, Tim paused upon seeing Mar’i more collapsed than crouched by a broken lamp, her hand slick with blood. “Mar’i?” Tim approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her up enough to get a good look at her. He noticed that she was wearing regular clothes, not her usual Nightstar uniform. Her jeans were muddy and ripped, and her top- with too low a neckline that Tim <em>knew</em> Dick, despite being as feminist as he was, would never have let his sixteen-year-old daughter out of the house in- was falling off of her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Mar’i,” Tim repeated, a bit more urgent, and tugged the girl’s chin up to get a look at her face. There was another bruise over her eye, and her nose and upper lip were coated in dried blood. The girl’s green eyes were glazed over, her eyelids heavy, and she swayed in Tim’s grip.</p>
<p>“Un…Unc… Tim?” she slurred, and Tim startled at the thought that she might be drunk. “Wha… Where…?”</p>
<p>“You’re at my apartment, Mar’i,” Tim informed her, voice steely. Momentarily, he wasn’t sure of what to do. His teenaged niece was in his apartment, bruised and bleeding and <em>drunk</em>, and- <em>God</em>, as much as Tim <em>loathed </em>to admit it- Jason or Damian would probably be able to deal with this situation better than him.</p>
<p>A light flicked on, making Mar’i wince. “Tim?” Kon’s voice came from the doorway. He was rubbing the sand from his eyes, but his voice sounded alert. “Is that Mar’i?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tim grit out. “And I’m pretty sure she’s intoxicated.”</p>
<p>Mar’i groaned, swaying under her uncle’s grip. “Noooooo, Unca’ Tim…” she slurred, making Tim grow even more frustrated. “Not… not <em>drunk</em>…”</p>
<p>Kon approached, kneeling down in front of Mar’i and taking in the sight of her, much like Tim had. Only Kon was probably using his x-ray vision to inspect her and make sure there was no internal damage. Then, the man turned to Tim, his face pale and lips pressed together in a thin line. “Tim,” he stammered, “Tim, she’s not drunk, she… I think she’s been drugged.”</p>
<p>Shock rushed over Tim, but his training quickly washed it away. Cursing up a storm under his breath, he handed Mar’i over to Kon and headed to his office, opening up the secret compartment in the wall and withdrawing a first aid kit and drug test. For a minute, he just stood there, glaring down at the testing kit, forcing himself to breathe steadily through his nose. Then, he looked up at the ceiling, not quite sure who he was begging for patience.</p>
<p>When Tim headed out of the office, he followed Kon’s murmuring voice towards the living room where he’d abandoned his laptop. Kon had laid Mar’i down on the couch and was running his hand through her dark locks. Mar’i was shivering and sweating at the same time, her absent expression sending a wave of fear through Tim’s body.</p>
<p>“Kon-” he began, and Kon looked up to him with murder in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Bruises,” Kon ground out. “Left bicep, right thigh. She’s got scrapes on her knees, elbows, and back. Not to mention the gouge in her hand from the lamp.”</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Tim hissed out, readying the drug test. Sure, Kon had said she was drugged, but Tim needed to find out with <em>what</em> so that he could give her something to counteract it. Kon grabbed the first aid kit from his husband, opening it up to grab out butterfly bandages and gauze. Tim quickly took a blood sample from one of the girl’s scrapes and took it back to the office to process it.</p>
<p>Just as he finished inserted the test tube into the processor, he heard Mar’i crying out in the living room. “N-No! S-Stop-” the girl choked on a sob, “D-Don’t touch m-me!”</p>
<p>Darting back into the living room, his heart in his throat, Tim saw Kon trying to calm the teenager down. Her shirt was half-pulled off one arm, and Tim realized that Kon had been trying to dress the girl’s bruises with medicine.</p>
<p>“Okay, Mar, okay…” Kon murmured, holding his hands up in a peaceful stance. “I won’t touch, okay? But I need you to take a few deep breaths for me. Can you do that, hon? Just a few deep breaths…”</p>
<p>But Mar’i was starting to hyperventilate, murmuring “No, no, no, no, <em>no</em>-” under her breath as she tried to sink into the couch. “No, <em>please</em>-” she sobbed, and Tim felt suddenly queasy.</p>
<p>“Hey, Starshine,” he spoke calmly and evenly to the girl as he came to crouch by Kon. The Kryptonian moved out of the way, allowing Tim to hover by Mari’s face. “Starshine, we need you to breathe, okay?” Something about the nickname- Dick’s nickname for his daughter- helped to soothe the girl, and her harsh sobs turned to soft whimpers. “You’ve been drugged. We don’t know what by, but I’ve got a sample running-”</p>
<p>“T-The… punch…” the teenager coughed. “He- he gave me… some p-punch an’… He was jus’ bein’ <em>nice</em>, Unca’ Tim… He… tol’ me I looked <em>pretty</em>…”</p>
<p>A cold wave washed over Tim, and he bit his lip <em>hard </em>as to not start screaming.</p>
<p><em>Roofies</em>, the thought stuck out in his mind like a neon sign.</p>
<p>Mar’i- his sixteen-year-old niece, the one who he had helped to diaper and taught to speak, tutored in chemistry and trained to throw a punch- had been fucking <em>roofied</em>.</p>
<p>Kon must have come to the same conclusion because he was standing up and crossing to the kitchen with a phone in his hand, his furious expression clashing with his calm voice. “Steph, hey, I know it’s early, but Tim and I need…”</p>
<p>Tim tuned out his husband’s voice in favor of reaching a hand out towards his niece. The drugs must have already been wearing off- or maybe Mar’i was just growing more tired- because the teenager didn’t protest this time when her uncle pulled her into a loose hug. “You’re okay, Starshine,” Tim murmured the nickname again, feeling a bit of relief when the girl relaxed further into his hold. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? But I need you to stay awake for a few more minutes. We need to confirm what drugs are in your system before we decide what to do, okay?”</p>
<p>Mar’i mumbled something, and Tim leaned down closer to her. “I didn’t catch that, Mar.”</p>
<p>“…Dad’s gon’ be mad…”</p>
<p>And just when Tim thought his heart couldn’t break any more for the girl.</p>
<p>“Oh, Mar’i,” Tim hushed her when her sobs began anew, drawing her closer to his chest. “You’re Dad’s not gonna be mad at you.” Sure, Dick was going to be <em>pissed</em>, but not at his daughter. He was going to be pissed off at whoever the fucker was that had <em>roofied</em> his daughter. Not to mention Damian and Jason were going to be on warpaths, guns blazing and swords swinging. And- <em>shit</em>- Bruce. Would. Be. <em>Livid. </em>Tim could already imagine the righteous whirlwind of fury that Granddaddy-Bats would be, attacking as Bruce Wayne with lawyers and Batman with fists.</p>
<p>Mari’s eyelids were fluttering, and Tim urged her once more to stay awake.</p>
<p>It was then that a knock from the front door echoed through the room, and Kon quickly opened it to reveal a furious and frantic Stephanie Brown. As soon as she laid her eyes on Mar’i, however, Stephanie melted. “Oh, baby,” she murmured, drawing Mar’i out of Tim’s arms and into a hug of her own. Mar’i, exhausted from the drugs and crying, merely slumped into her aunt’s hold. Stephanie’s eyes met Tim’s, and she asked, “Injuries?”</p>
<p>Tim rattled off the girl’s injuries while Kon went to grab a fresh set of pajamas for their niece. Stephanie’s face grew more and more grim with every word Tim spoke, her eyes blazing. “Help me get her to the guest room,” Stephanie ordered. Tim didn’t protest.</p>
<p>Together, they hefted the girl up- being half-Tamaranean had given her more height and muscle than most teens her age- and took her to the guest room. When Kon entered and gave Stephanie the pajamas, the woman thanked him and then excused the men from the room.</p>
<p>Feeling helpless, Tim cuddled up on the couch with his husband, resting his head on Kon’s chest. Kon tucked Tim’s crown under his chin, his arms wrapped around the shorter man. After several minutes of deafening silence, Tim murmured, “Kon, what if- what if he- how far did he go? Is Mar’i- did she- will she be okay?” His voice croaked on the last question, Kon’s grip on him automatically tightening.</p>
<p>“She’ll be okay, Tim,” the man said, and he sounded much like he was trying to convince himself, too. “Steph will take care of her, and she’s sleep it off, and she’ll be <em>fine</em>.”</p>
<p>Tim was about to disagree- to ask more disbelieving questions- but a beeping from the office drew his attention. He pulled away from Kon and raced into the other room, taking a long look at the drug test. The results were glaring at him in bright red text, and he had to look up at the ceiling once more to compose himself.</p>
<p>
  <em>Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid.</em>
</p>
<p>GHB<em>.</em></p>
<p>Better known as La Rocha, the Forget-Me Pill, <em>Roofies</em>…</p>
<p><em>Date-rape drugs, </em>Tim’s mind screamed at him.</p>
<p>Someone had tried to <em>rape </em>his <em>niece</em>.</p>
<p>His breath hitched, tears welling in his eyes, and his throat closed off.</p>
<p>Tim could fight off the thugs and goons and supervillains. He could suture wounds and break away cuffs and rescue Nightstar when she got in over her head.</p>
<p>But he couldn’t protect <em>Mar’i</em>. Not from things like this.</p>
<p>He hadn’t even known the girl was at a party that night. He wondered if Dick knew. Mar’i had said she was drinking <em>punch</em>, but…</p>
<p>Someone still had the guts to <em>drug her</em>.</p>
<p>Just as he felt he was going to start hyperventilating, Tim felt Kon’s arms wrap around him from behind, his husband’s chin resting on his shoulder. Tim grit his teeth, closing his eyes and squeezing Kon’s hand.</p>
<p>“Kon…” Tim choked.</p>
<p>“I know, babe,” Kon sounded close to tears himself. “I know…”</p>
<p>After a few minutes of standing there, the couple was interrupted by Stephanie knocking on the door. “Hey,” she greeted them somberly. “She’s asleep now. I got her hand and scrapes taken care of, but she panicked when I tried to put the bruise cream on her. She was still really out of it, but she managed to change herself into the pj’s, and I tucked her in.” Crossing her arms, leaning up against the doorway, Stephanie inquired, “Is Dick on his way?”</p>
<p>Tim’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he let loose a string of colorful curses that would have Alfred deeply disappointed in him.</p>
<p>Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Of <em>course</em> you forgot to call him-”</p>
<p>Before Tim could snap at his friend, Kon murmured, “We were a little preoccupied, Steph.”</p>
<p>Stephanie wilted, nodding to herself, and turned towards the kitchen as she dialed on her phone. “Hey, Dick,” Tim heard her say, “sorry about the late call…”</p>
<p>Tim’s eyes drifted over to the wall clock, and he startled upon seeing it was nearly 4am.</p>
<p>He felt suddenly very tired. And- for once- very, very <em>old</em>.</p>
<p>“We should get some rest,” Kon said. “<em>You</em> should get some rest.”</p>
<p>“Dick will be on his way soon…” Tim protested weakly.</p>
<p>Kon clicked his tongue and shook his head, leading his husband to their room. “You can talk to him in the morning.”</p>
<p>“But he’s gonna be panicking, Kon. Frantic. He’s gonna need-”</p>
<p>“Steph and I can handle Dick,” Kon reassured Tim as he manhandled him into bed, tucking a blanket around him. “Get some shut-eye, babe. We’ll all be here in the morning.”</p>
<p>And they would be. Dick would be there, eyes red-rimmed and arms wrapped around his daughter like an octopus. Mar’i would still be half-asleep, cuddling into her father, her hair in disarray. Stephanie would be in the kitchen, cooking up waffles and bacon. Kon would be calling the rest of the family in the living room, sounding like a broken record of reassurances and promises that everyone was welcome to come see Mar’i, should she be up to visitors.</p>
<p>And Tim would stand in the doorway of the guest room, arms crossed and face weary. Dick would look up at his little brother with a wet smile, reaching a hand out. Mar’i would grumble as her uncle joined their cuddle-pile but would easily settle down in the protective arms of her uncle and father.</p>
<p>In the morning.</p>
<p>Everything would be better in the morning.</p>
<p>Exhausted and unable to protest further, Tim fell asleep with his husband’s hand carding through his hair and whispers soothing his heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Timmy Drake and Kon Kent make the bEST UNCLES COME AND FIGHT ME @ DC COMICS!</p>
<p>Nah, but seriously, I LIVE for Mar'i Grayson and Angst, so why not have both? *shrugs*. I also live for Tim/Kon + babies (even tho Mar'i isn't a baby in this fic, but whatever).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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